


Skyfall

by hervissa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-28 00:33:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6306700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hervissa/pseuds/hervissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Azkaban is a cold, hard place. Happy feelings have no place in its depths. But what if the flame of love is stronger than time, stronger than fear, stronger than isolation? And what if the witch in question has no doubts about her wizard coming back to her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bellatrix

**Author's Note:**

> Contrary to the popular opinion, songfic isn't dead. Or to be more specific, it definitely wasn't three years back when this story was written. It'd undergone many changes since then - hopefully the version I present to you is free of grammatical errors ;)
> 
> I wish you a pleasant reading experience! ^_^

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After fourteen years spent in isolation, it might be hard to distinguish memories from dreams. But some particular events have a tendency to carve themselves into the walls of one's mind...

_This is the end_

_Hold your breath and count to ten_

_Feel the Earth move and then_

_Hear my heart burst again_

_For this is the end_

For the fourteen years I'd spent in this hellhole at the end of the world, only the memories of him kept me alive. Or as alive as one can claim to be in the depths of Azkaban.

I _knew_ with the utmost certainty that some stupid little baby couldn't kill him, even though people proclaimed it loudly on the streets. Not him, the greatest of wizards, the darkest of lords.

Even in my darkest moments, when dementors swarmed outside of my cell, the walls of my cell frosting over, I simply allowed my mind to slip beneath the surface of sanity and started laughing, laughing in spite of the world that tried to destroy me times and times over.

The silent guardians of Azkaban took extra care to suck out all hope, all happiness, all that was nice and beautiful and precious -but without the power of their kiss, they couldn't take away my soul, my deepest beliefs, my strongest feelings.

I didn't have to feel joyous to know they were there. No-one could do anything about my love for the Dark Lord, just like no-one could do anything about the rising and the setting of the sun.

Nothing could extinguish the flame of passion, burning deep inside of me.

Not even time.

And when the prison seemed too dark, too terrible, too cold, I hid in the safety of my mind and revelled in one particular memory over and over.

* * *

It was Halloween 1981, early evening, and my Lord had just dismissed the meeting. The air was still buzzing understandable excitement - the Dark Lord was going to kill the Potter boy tonight, thus getting rid of a potential future obstacle. As much as I disliked Snape, I had to admit he had quite the stroke of luck in overhearing the prophecy.

(He was still a greasy slimeball, though.)

The Dark Lord had to be feeling benevolent tonight, because he didn't object to the chatter around him and just watched the elite of his followers thin out as people Disapparated throughout the room.

Finally, only me and the Dark Lord remained.

(How thrilling would it be to be able to call him by his true name?)

He sat still in his chair, like a king, his wand twirling between his long, pale fingers. I was quiet, standing just outside the light of the candles, which had now dimmed despite burning brightly a few minutes ago. I enjoyed the chance to observe him on his own, without the distractions of the meeting. It made me feel like he was a rare piece of art, a hidden treasure I needed to protect from privy eyes, a gem I alone could admire.

(Silly, silly me.)

After a while, he lifted his head, seeming to realize I was still there. Even in the semi-darkness enticing the room, it still felt like his scarlet eyes were piercing my very soul.

"What are you still doing here, Bella?"

Thank goodness, he was in a good mood. It would had been _Bellatrix_ if he wasn't. The nickname (pronounced, as I told myself deep inside my head, with a hint of affection) he used gave me the courage to say aloud what I'd been pondering over for quite some time. Ever since we heard of the prophecy and he decided on his next steps, actually.

"My Lord, are you sure there's no other way?"

"Other way?" he repeated slowly, tilting his head a bit.

I took a deep breath and decided to jump straight in. He wouldn't kill me, I was sure of that. What his reaction would _actually_ be, though, I had no idea.

"It's just...I have a bad feeling about tonight. I know it sounds stupid," I added hastily, seeing his eyes harden, "and I know you're perfectly able to take down one family by yourself, but it feels like something's not right. I definitely don't trust that little rat Pettigrew," I said with a grimace of disgust. "I'd simply feel better if you at least took someone with you..."

My voice slowly trailed off.

I expected that he'd Crucio me for my words, like he did to some newbie a week ago for asking if it's really so important if some random baby lives or dies, but instead he seated himself more comfortably in his chair, a smirk dancing around his lips, and asked: "And since when are you so... _caring_ , dear Bella?"

I lowered my head, staring at the polished surface of the table, not knowing what to say. What would be the truth?

Since the moment I looked into your eyes?

Since the moment you honoured me with the Dark Mark?

Since the night I started dreaming about you?

It was tempting, dangerously tempting, to present my feelings freely, to hold my head high, to look into his eyes and to proclaim my love.

But as always, I decided for the half-truth.

"You're my Lord. I don't want you to," I didn't want to use the word _die_ , because that wouldn't be right, "get hurt."

I hoped that it'd be enough for him, that he wouldn't decide to use Legilimency on me. Yes, he was aware of my affection - after all, everyone was. But no-one, not even Cissy, knew the true extent of it.

I could protect my deepest secrets quite well, but with that smile of his? I wasn't so sure if I'd be fast enough to block him. I was too distracted.

Suddenly, he wasn't in his chair anymore. Instead he stood in front of me,

(tall and dark and _oh Merlin so handsome_ )

scarlet eyes staring at me. While his tone was seemingly gentle, I could hear the dangerous edge.

"Really? Is that so? Or is it something... _else_? What do you think, Bella?"

I kept my gaze directed at the table, not brave - or foolish - enough to look on him.

"You're my Lord," I repeated. "I merely feel concern for your well-being, that's all."

"We both know that's not quite true, don't we?"

He started to circle around me, fixing me with his eyes like he was the proverbial snake and I his prey.

Well, like I mentioned, my feelings weren't exactly a national secret, but I'd always assumed he'd keep pretending nothing like my desires existed.

This was getting dangerously out of hand.

But at least I was still standing and not screaming in pain on the floor.

For the second time this evening, I took a deep breath.

"It doesn't matter how I feel, my Lord. You know it doesn't interfere with what I do as a Death Eater."

I had to cut this short, otherwise there was no telling where the conversation would end up. With all the willpower I could muster, I raised my head and looked straight into his eyes.

"Can you promise me that you will come back, my Lord? Please?"

The Dark Lord stared at me as if pondering whether to answer or not.

Then he chuckled a little, not his usual, cruel laugh used to taunt his enemies, but a soft sound, completely out of character for him.

He lifted my chin with his pale fingers and leaned closer.

"I promise," he whispered. A shiver ran down my spine.

_I've drowned and dreamt this moment_

_So overdue I owe them_

_Swept away I'm stolen_

I don't know which one of us started it, if it was done on purpose or impulsive.

But suddenly, we were kissing passionately, his lips soft and...tasting like chocolate?

The microscopic part of my brain that wasn't completely focused at the situation started to wonder whether he had a sweet tooth.

(Shut _up_ , Trixie. Kiss. Now. Him!)

It was like a drug, a drug you get hooked on after the first try.

I enjoyed reading my mother's books when I was younger, the ones she kept hidden in a secret stash at the back of her wardrobe, but I always felt like the heroines were highly exaggerating their feelings during the heated moments.

I didn't count on _this._

There was fire in my veins, his hands somehow snaked their way into my hair, mine ended up gripping the front of his robes, and even if Dumbledore and the whole Order appeared all of a sudden, even if the sky began to fall right now, nothing could separate us.

_Let the sky fall_

_When it crumbles_

_We will stand tall_

_And face it all together_

_Let the sky fall_

_When it crumbles_

_We will stand tall_

_And face it all togehter_

_At skyfall_

_At skyfall_

After what seemed like eternity, it ended.

Did I mention kissing him was like a drug? Well, I wanted more. I wanted more before this dreamy, surreal situation came to an abrupt end.

Me, trying to find my breath, him, looking at me, a strange light sparkling in his scarlet eyes.

"I promise," he repeated. And I believed it.

(Well, I just got kissed by the Dark Lord himself, I would probably believe anything.)

It wasn't like I had a choice - not when his hands rested on my hips, not when I could still feel the heat of his body.

For a split second, he looked as though he was unsure what to do, as though he was torn between going and staying. But then he stepped back, his usual cold expression sliding back in place, and , swirling on the spot, he Disapparated.

And I stood there, body shaking like I just received electricity shock, the taste of chocolate still on my lips.

* * *

After he disappeared, seemingly defeated or worse, I, for the lack of a better word, went crazy.

Rodolphus and Rabastan, along with the young Crouch, accompanied me on my search for the Dark Lord, but it was more because of their worry of what I might do on my own than of a desire to find our master and to get revenge on those who dared to oppose him.

I got to the Longbottoms. I was so, so sure they were the correct piece of the puzzle! They were Aurors, Dumbledore liked them, they were _bound_ to have more information than the others!

They did not.

With every Crucio I threw at them I felt my anger and despair rising.

My companions tried to get me to stop, to leave, but I was too enraged to listen.

But nothing had changed, no tall figure stepped out of the shadows, no red eyes flickered in amusement.

A fleet of Aurors arrived, wands at the ready, and only then did I finally let the man and the woman drop to the floor, blank looks in their eyes, their hair whitening because of the sheer force I put into the spell.

Rabastan getting hit was like a bucket of cold water.

If I wanted to see my Lord again, I had to change the way I played the game.

I would be of no use to him dead.

Somehow, we managed to convince the Aurors we were indeed wishing to stop the fighting and were giving up our wands. For once, I was glad the leader of the squad was no other than Alastor Moody. He liked to bring his prisoners in alive.

(Slytherin 101, Chapter 2: Weaknesses of your enemies and the exploitation of those)

Still, I refused to let go of my beliefs.

Even when I sat in the courtroom, the heavy chains circling my wrists, even when the Aurors took me to Azkaban, I knew that I only had to wait.

He'd return one day.

He promised.

* * *

Every few years, Narcissa, Lucius and Draco came to visit me in my dark, cold cell. It usually lasted about ten minutes, not longer - after all, I was one of the most dangerous prisoners. I saw the pain in Cissy's eyes, Draco's wary expression, I listened to Lucius' whispers when they left, whispers about my insanity and crazy beliefs in His return.

 _Traitor_ , I murmured as I traced the faded outline of the Dark Mark on my forearm.

Aurors, healers, great wizards, they'd all tried to convince me that my Lord was dead, that he would not, _could not_ come back. Eventually, they gave up.

I had a name and a number on my cell, like a wild animal, and they treated me like one.

And still, I knew that he'd come back.

He promised.

_Skyfall is where we start_

_A thousand miles and poles apart_

_Where worlds collide and days are dark_

_You may have my number_

_You can take my name_

_But you'll never have my heart_

And then, finally, the Mark began to stand out more visibly against my pale skin.

I waited for almost a year for any sign of _his_ return, the hope I felt growing stronger with each darker shade of the skull-and-snake tattoo.

And then, one night, it suddenly burned black, the familiar pain in my forearm bringing a grin to my face.

Oh, how I wanted to Apparate to him, to stand proudly by his side!

Yet I waited patiently, for I knew he wouldn't forget about me. He couldn't. Not me, not his most loyal, most faithful follower.

For more than half a year, I'd felt the Mark burn occasionally and I'd always imagined how the meeting would go, what he would say, who would be there.

And then, in the darkness of a cold winter night, I was awoken by the sound of a loud explosion somewhere nearby. The walls of my cell shook with it. Then another one broke the calm of the night, this time closer.

I got up from the thing I mockingly called _my bed_. The once so familiar feeling of adrenaline rushing through my body returned, sharpening all my senses. Happiness, true happines, buried deep inside my mind because of the Dementors, was itching to break free and float to the surface.

Speaking of those soul-sucking sacks - I'd expect them to be gathering outside of my cell right now, like they did every time they sensed the slightest happy thought emitting from me. Instead there was no frost, no depression, nothing.

(Did it mean what I thought it meant?)

With a deafening noise, the wall separating me from the world outside blew up.

I barely managed to duck as the debris went flying everywhere and the air filled with dust. I was bound to get hit by something, so I covered my head and waited for the inevitable impact - but it didn't come. The stone fragments froze in midair several feet away from me and fell to the floor.

I stood up, absent-mindedly sweeping away some of the dust from my prison rags. My heart was beating frantically as I saw a tall figure standing at the edge of the hole in the wall, its outline growing sharper as the air cleared.

"Lumos," said the velvety voice I knew so well, making my heart clench.

And as a ball of light flew from the tip of his wand to the ceiling and illuminated the cell, I finally saw the Dark Lord in all his glory.

Unreadable scarlet eyes, pale skin, long, slender fingers.

Even if a thousand dementors tried to bring me down, they'd all fail.

Because he came back.

To me.

_Let the sky fall_

_When it crumbles_

_We will stand tall_

_And face it all together_

_Let the sky fall_

_When it crumbles_

_We will stand tall_

_And face it all together_

_At skyfall_

I coughed, trying to clear my suddenly tight throat.

"I knew you'd come back, my Lord. I'd never stopped believing," I half-croaked, my voice harsh.

(No surprise there. I _had_ been using it mainly for yelling this past decade, after all.)

"Of course I came back," he said, the familiar smirk sliding back into place. "I promised, didn't I?"

_Where you go I go_

_What you see I see_

_I know I'd never be me_

_Without the security_

_Of your loving arms_

_Keeping me from harm_

_Put your hand in my hand_

_And we'll stand_

He offered me his hand and I took it, gripping it perhaps too tightly to ensure this was all real and not just a vivid dream.

I was suddenly aware of my appearance, aware of the mess on my head I once called hair, aware of my hollow cheeks.

But the Dark Lord didn't say anything concering my looks.

He just watched me, the smirk turning into a full smile.

(I _might_ had been grinning like a kid who'd just received a puppy on Christmas Day.)

Without as much as a warning, he pulled me closer, putting an arm around my waist, causing my heart to beat so fast I half-expected it to jump out of my chest.

(It's normal for one's knees to be on the brink of buckling after so many years spent in terrible conditions. No other reason, Professor Trixie.)

"We'll Apparate to Malfoy Manor. Your sister will take care of you. Is that alright with you?"

Alright, this _was_ a very vivid dream. Had to be. Why else would he ask me about my opinion?

"O-of course, my Lord. Anything," I quickly responded.

He tilted his head to side as if pondering something. Then he reached inside his robes and pulled something out.  
"I thought you'd like to have it back," he said and placed it into my hand.

I couldn't believe my eyes. My wand!

I bowed lightly, holding back tears of gratitude.

"Thank you, my Lord," I said. Standing this close to him, I basked in his presence, in the fact that his attention was focused solely on me.

And yet...

Would it remain that way? Or would I have return to my dreams and fantasies, to the world where I was married to a friend because the society demanded it, so close and yet so far away from the man I loved?

But there was that kiss. It meant something. Change, even.

So I was going to hold on to hope.

(Silly, silly me.)

He pulled me to the edge of the floor and I saw the world outside again after such a long time.  
I suddenly realized how cold I was, but the feeling of fresh air on my face was worth it.

There were figures on brooms everywhere, dementors flying around like ravens. I realized that nearly half of the Azkaban roof was gone, leaving the triangle-shaped prison looking like an old cake, bitten off and forgotten. On the horizon, there was a hint of the dawn light and I felt like a newborn.

I looked at the Dark Lord, standing beside me, and felt another grin forming on my face. I was free and with him - and what more could I wish for?

_Let the sky fall_

_When it crumbles_

_We will stand tall_

_And face it all togehter_

_Let the sky fall_

_When it crumbles_

_We will stand tall_

_And face it all together_

_At skyfall_

He turned to me, encircling my waist with both his arms. With my hands on his chest, I felt a strange sense of _dejà-vu_.

"Ready?" He asked, a hint of another smile dancing in the corner of his lips.

(Did they still taste like chocolate?)

"Maybe you'll get the chance to know some day," he whispered into my ear and I suddenly realized that I had my Occlumency shields down.

But he didn't seem to care. I felt the steady beating of his heart under the palm of my hand and a wave of certainty came over me.

No matter what, I'll always stand by his side.

And maybe, one day, we will stand together.

After all, I was his most faithful, most loyal.

His Bella.

_Let the sky fall_

_We will stand tall_

_At skyfall_


	2. Voldemort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And what exactly did the darkest of lords think about it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written later than the original story and I decided against inserting the Skyfall lyrics into the text again. It wouldn't fit so nicely :P :D  
> Enjoy!

**20/3/2016: Of course I couldn't leave Voldy alone! He, too, deserved a bit of polishing. So here you go - and hopefully you'll enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it ;)**

* * *

Halloween, Halloween. Here we are at last.

After the meeting, I remained sitting in my chair at the head of the table, twirling my wand between my fingers. The lines of the prophecy kept repeating themselves in my head, like they tended to do lately.

I was quite lucky Dumbledore was the way he was, really.

First Snape and now Pettigrew had come to me, both unsatisfied and feeling shunned, both becoming the bearers of important information. Of course, they were both drastically different in character and skill, but it was rather poetic, the way those Dumbledore overlooked stood up against him.

(Night-time musings. Again. I should stop and get going.)

I realized Bellatrix was still in the room, almost blending into the shadows. Were it anyone else, I'd probably throw his ass out, but with her, it was different.

She kept proving herself to be the most loyal amongst my followers and, unlike a lot of them, she really put her heart into the fight.  
In fact, thinking about it, she was way better than any of them in many aspects - she was smart, an extremely talented duellist and when she did something, she focused all her attention at the task at hand.

I knew value when I saw it.

Quite curious about her intentions, I lifted my head and looked straight at her.  
"What are you still doing here, Bella?"

I saw her eyes glow with happines when I used that nickname. She'd had that kind of reaction every time I'd shown something resembling _affection_ towards her. I remembered that back in the early days, when I taught her how to fight better, she almost melted whenever I touched her hand to correct her grip.

It was actually quite amusing, this crush of hers.

"My Lord, are you sure there's no other way?" she asked carefully, clearly eager not to awaken my wrath.

"Other way?" I repeated slowly. I understood that she was talking about tonight, I saw it in her expression, but I had only a vague idea as to why she would ask that.

"It's just...I have a bad feeling about tonight. I know it sounds stupid," she added hastily, probably sensing my growing annoyance, "and I know you're perfectly able to take down one family by yourself, but it feels like something's not right. I definitely don't trust that little rat Pettigrew," she said with a grimace of disgust. "I'd simply feel better if you at least took someone with you..."

This actually sounded more like Narcissa than Bellatrix and it was actually quite discomforting. I wasn't used to her sounding so... _sentimental._

I took in her expression, the way she kept her stare down, the way she bit her lower lip. What was the matter?

A touch of Legilimency, just strong enough to scan her current emotions - and I was slightly surprised.

She was actually _concerned_ about me. Almost _scared_ for me. That was...new.

A smirk crossed my lips.

Seating myself more comfortably, I asked curiously: "And since when are you so...caring, dear Bella?"

She looked on the table, keeping quiet, and I could almost see the thoughts twirling around her head. Just when I pondered whether or not to use Legilimency, she said quietly: "You're my Lord. I don't want you to," she paused for a second, "get hurt."

Half-truth.

Well, if she wanted to play a game, I had no objections.

But we were going to play by _my_ rules.

I stood up and in a whirl of black robes moved to stand in front of her.

"Really? Or is it something...else? What do you think , Bella?"

She kept her gaze glued to the table.

"You're my Lord," she finally said, repeating herself. "I merely feel concern for your well-being, that's all."

"We both know that's not quite true, don't we?" I said as I started to circle around her.

(Merlin's beard, I'm like Nagini when she wants to play with her dinner.)

"It doesn't matter how I feel, my Lord. You know it doesn't interfere with what I do as a Death Eater."

Interfere, maybe not, but her feelings were definitely _involved_.

She evidently got all her courage together, because she raised her head and a pair of brown eyes met mine.

"Can you promise me that you will come back, my Lord? Please?" she asked quietly, the words and the tone of voice so unlike her.

If anyone told me Bellatrix Lestrange would plead for the assurance of my safety, I'd laugh my arse off.

I was actually planning to do that, but then I thought for a moment.

My attention and praise were the things that made Bellatrix happy, and when she was happy, there wasn't an obstacle she couldn't overcome.

Giving her the answer she desired fitted under the 'receiving my attention' label.

Plus, if my presumption about her feelings was correct, I'd get a moment of amusement out of her reaction.

(What was there to lose?)

I lifted her chin and for a moment allowed myself to look deep into those chocolate brown orbs.

"I promise," I whispered, my voice drawling just enough to make her shiver.

And then, suddenly, we were kissing.

I had no idea how it started, but to say I was surprised would be an understatement.

I was shocked even more when I realized that I was kissing Bellatrix back.

It was...strange.

Of course, I'd had many women throughout the course of my life, but it was always only to reach a goal or to...relieve myself.  
I never put my heart into it.

But in that very moment I'd somehow ended up with my hands cupping Bellatrix's cheeks and she was leaning into me, her back arched like she was a cat, her hands gripping my robes tightly.

She put a lot of the passion into the kiss, more than I'd ever thought she could feel. When we finally broke apart, she was breathing heavily and slightly trembling. She looked like she was drugged and still fighting off the after-effects.  
I realized with a start that I felt good. Better than in a long time, in fact.

But what actually scared me was the fact that once I got a taste of Bellatrix Lestrange, I wanted more.

Bellatrix's eyes were wide, my hands moved to her hips on their own accord and I was at loss of words.

What _does_ one say in a situation like this, anyway? All my previous encounters of this type were carefully planned and didn't involve a woman who'd, if her reaction was any indicator, have no trouble commiting a mass murder to get a chance to kiss me.

So I just repeated: "I promise."

Apparently it was what Bellatrix wanted to hear, because she smiled warmly and leaned a bit closer to me.

I felt something twitch in the depths of my mind. A treacherous thought got inside my head, a thought of a satisfyingly spent night, a thought of another taste of her lips, a thought of abandoning the task at hand-

_Damn._

The words of the prophecy washed over me like a bucket of ice-cold water. There was something I had to do, and tonight was the night to do it.

Halloween, one of the most powerful magical nights of the year.

Angry at myself for even considering doing something that would only encourage Bellatrix in her attempts, I took a step back from her and Disapparated.

No distractions. Not today.

However, when I arrived at the Potters' house, I couldn't help but remember how damn good that kiss was.

I felt my magic grow and shift as my heart pounded just a little bit faster.

I couldn't feel love, I wouldn't deliberately feel it, but that didn't mean I couldn't enjoy certain _aspects_ of it.

I raised my wand and blew the front door off its hinges with a single wave.

Say goodbye to the world, Harry Potter.

* * *

After almost fourteen years, I finally had my body back.

That was good.

Harry bloody Potter escaped again, this time with the help of a bunch of ghosts.

That was bad. _Very_ bad.

I was angrier than I'd ever been in my entire life. My mood didn't exactly improve when the filthy scumbag Snape crawled to me two hours later, explaining how well he'd fooled everyone and how he'd always been on my side.

He was asking for the torture, really.

When he finally gave in and started screaming out loud, I switched to Legilimency. Pain was a great way of making the mind raw and unprotected, and thus honest.

What I saw inside Snape's head surprised me.

He was actually telling the truth. He really wanted to be the part of the fight again, he was teaching at Hogwarts like I originally intended him to and, most importantly, Dumbledore bought his remorse act.

In the end, I decided to spare his life. I wasn't generous very often, but the trip into his thoughts actually made me feel like he deserved a second chance.

Even if it was merely for my amusement.

* * *

The beginning of one particular January night found me on the way to Azkaban, my Death Eaters around me on their brooms. Throughout the past six months or so, we'd had a variety of meetings, planned for the future and prepared the ground for our big coming-out.

But I realized that I missed Bellatrix there, her passion for the cause, her never-ceasing energy to fight, her refusal to ever give up.

Well, if tonight went according to the plan, we should have our imprisoned colleagues back soon enough.

Once we got to the prison in the middle of the North Sea, making a deal with the Dementors was laughably easy.

Then, while other Death Eaters fulfilled their appointed tasks, I went to the corner of the roof, where I knew Bellatrix's cell lay.

The others would be fine with being rescued by their brothers-in-arms, but I felt like Bellatrix deserved to see _me_ after all these years, not just a person in a hood.

Or so I told myself.

Ever since I properly came back last June, I'd been thinking about me and her. Nothing big, just little sneaky thoughts, ideas, memories... _feelings_.

The result was that now, while I waved my wand in one swift motion to blow up the wall in front of me, I felt nervous. Or afraid? Or hopeful?

I honestly didn't know anymore.

All I knew was that I'd missed my Bella. Even though I'd never admit that to anyone.

(Maybe to her. One day.)

The stone exploded, leaving a gaping hole in its place. Quickly, I cast a shield spell around the area where I expected Bellatrix to be to avoid the unpleasant possibility of her getting impaled by the debris. As the air cleared, I landed on the cell floor and with a flick of my wand created just enough light to see into every corner of the room.

Slowly, Bellatrix stood up from the wall she was crouching at. Her hair was a mess, her cheeks were hollow and she overall looked much worse than I thought she would.

The results of Azkaban.

But when she lifted her head and looked at me, I saw the surprise, joy and happines in her chocolate brown eyes, the eyes that had stayed the same, no matter how much time had passed since I'd looked into them for the last time.

Clearing her throat, Bellatrix managed to speak: "I knew that you'd come back, my Lord. I'd never stopped believing!"

I felt a rush of pride, pride and perhaps even affection for her, for she'd just confirmed what I knew the whole time - that her faith in me never fluctuated, never grew weaker.

Also, it was strangely satisfying to hear the words _my Lord_ from her. She always said with such delight, such passion, like it was a pleasure for her to be able to say it.

I smirked a little: "Of course I returned. I promised, didn't I?"

I offered her my hand and she took it without hesitation, a grin spreading on her face, lighting it up. Then she looked over herself, probably realizing for the first time in many years just how drastically her visage had changed. I merely smiled and pulled her closer, sliding an arm around her waist.

Her heartbeat quickened.

I smiled even more. Apparently, I could still make her melt with a simple touch.

"We'll apparate to the Malfoy Manor. Your sister will take care of you. Is that alright with you?"

The last question surprised even me. More so when I realized I really _did_ care whether she was comfortable with it.

Bellatrix looked as surprised as I felt, but she quickly answered: "O-of course, my Lord. Anything."

I tilted my head slightly as I remembered something and pulled a wand from the inside of my robes.

Her wand.

Lucius Imperiused one of the workers at the Ministry storages to get it, along with the wands of the others.

No-one can say I don't take care of those loyal to me.

"I thought you'd like to have it back," I smiled once again at the joy in her eyes when she saw that piece of wood.

(Alright, I'll pull a muscle if I keep smiling this much.)

"Thank you, my Lord," she bowed a little. There was pure happiness in her expression, almost as if she was high on something.

Deciding she'd spent enough time in that filthy cell, I gently pulled her to the edge of the room. She looked around, mouth opened in surprise, taking in the outside world and the chaos around the prison. Then she looked at me and grinned again, weak, dirty, but still _her_ , the passionate, ruthless, beautiful warrior.

( _My_ beautiful warrior.)

I put my other arm around her waist and pulled her against me.

"Ready?" I asked and the corners of my lips twitched upon seeing her expression. She was staring at me, her eyes shining.

Once again, curiosity got the better of me and I quickly scanned her mind, correct in my assumption that her Occlumency shields were down.

I was overwhelmed by the amount of emotions I found.

Loyalty, excitement, happiness, determination...and feelings towards me. Curious what was really going on in her brain, I dived deeper into her thoughts.

She was thinking about my lips.

Alright. Surprising, but understandable.

But why on Earth was she wondering if they still tasted like chocolate?

That kiss had to affect her pretty hard if she remembered such a strange detail after fourteen years under the influence of the dementors.

Unable to resist, I leaned closer and whispered into her ear: "Maybe you'll get the chance to know some day."

Yes, I _liked_ the kiss. And given the opportunity, I'd be very much interested in another one.

...what if I let Bellatrix do what she wanted?

(She's the only woman Nagini likes.)

What was there to lose?

(I know _exactly_ where that question got me the last time it formed in my mind, thank you very much, nagging voice at the back of my brain.)

After all, if there ever was a woman worthy of my more _focused_ attention, if was the one standing in my arms.

And I wasn't planning on letting her go anytime soon.


End file.
